Forgiven Sin
by Monkey Blues
Summary: A man confined in prison, haunted by his past. A woman searching for the truth of what passed.


**A/N: This story has been in my head for a while. So here it is.**

**Review please?**

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**Chapter 1 An Offer**

How many years had it been, I wondered? Five? Seven?

I guess it didn't matter for me anymore.

The same 'scenery', same kind of people, same room….. Bah. I could keep going on and on for that.

The sun came in from outside the room, waking me up. Seriously, why didn't they cover up that goddamned hole, anyway? I rolled on my bed, faced the other side of the room and covered my eyes with my hand. Just when I was about to continue my interrupted sleep, the bell rang.

Of course, soon after, the guard started to shout, waking the occupants of this place. Even for the many years I had lived here, I would never be able to get used to that.

"Hey! Number 66! Hate to disturb your beauty sleep, but it's time to get your ass on the captain's quarter!"

I grunted. If I could just get one slightest chance to beat up that guard, I'll definitely do it. I didn't really care if they added another year on my list.

The guard, with blue uniform and black pants (like all the other), opened my room and started to shout again, telling me to hurry it up. Bah, whatever. I woke up and walked to the guard, placing both of my hand in the front.

"Good boy." Said the guard with a disgusting laugh, while placing a handcuff on my hand and pushing me outside.

I walked in front of him. Oh, how tempting it was to turn around and kick that guard on his 'private' part. But, I was sleepy, so I dropped the idea for next time when I'm pissed.

Seeing me walking without the slightest bit of resistance the other inmates started to shout at me.

"Number 66! Since when did you become the police's dog?!" said a bald guy with a scar on his face.

The others followed to shout and said things that I couldn't even hear clearly. I just shrugged it off, it was not like they were my friend or anything. And I didn't plan to become one anytime soon. Or the police's dog like they said.

"97! 98! Shut your trap or I'll give you your own finger for dinner!" yelled the guard as he took out his gun. But of course, being the kind of people they were, the shouting only get louder.

The guard mumbled something and, before starting to walk again, pushed me forward.

Life could never get better.

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The captain's quarter had always been in the same condition since I first came here. A stack of paper on the table (hell, some of them have even change color), a cup of black coffee, and most importantly, a very nasty smell. No one knew where that smell came from and none of them dared to ask.

Wait. There were some changes. The captain was not alone. There were two other persons in there, talking to the captain. I could guess that these 'newcomer' is pretty important, since the captain kept adding "sir" and "ma'am" on his sentences.

"Captain, here is prisoner number 66!" said the guard from my back.

The captain smiled (wait, he smiled? These people must be VERY important), told me to come in and dismissed the guard. The guard saluted him and walked to the outside, while closing the door.

I was not sure what was I supposed to do, so I waited for someone to tell me what to do or tell me why they called me here. But for some reason no one said anything. The captain seemed confused, but he knew better than to interrupt.

I took a glance on these new people.

The male one, probably in his thirties, had a short brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a brown leather jacket, a white shirt and classic blue jeans, with a gun on the belt strapped across his chest. He was eyeing me like I was some kind of endangered species. Gotta say that I already hated the guy.

The female one had a shoulder-length blonde hair (which seemed almost white to me) and piercing green eyes. I didn't know why I get that feeling when I looked at her eyes, it just…..did. She wore a blue vest, a black shirt underneath, and a pretty short black skirt, with a gun hanged on her waist.

Great. So everyone here had a gun, except for me.

For some reason, I didn't understand the woman's gaze. She looked at me with an emotion that I didn't recognize. To be honest, it made me curious. A feeling that I hadn't had for a while.

Coincidentally, I caught her eyes. I quickly averted my gaze to the floor, finding it so interesting suddenly.

The man cleared his throat, breaking the silence. I guessed he also had enough of the heavy atmosphere on the room.

The captain stood up, thinking that his guess is impatient. "Er, 66. Come and sit here….." he said with a small voice, pointing to the chair on his right.

Of course, I didn't move. What's more fun than making the captain lost his face in front of his so-called-important-'friend'?

The captain seemed like he had something to say, but was cut off by the man.

"Lucian Knight. Known by the public fifteen years ago as the 'Crimson Child' for the bizarre murder of his own family. The name came from the cop who found him for the first time, covered in his own relatives' blood. But, now is known as number 66."

He said all that in one breath. Didn't people have anything better to do than to memorize all that? The man continued.

"No murder weapons were found on the scene, nor did the authorities know how your family was killed. They were like…." He stopped, placing his hand on his chin, thinking for the right word. "…..Blasted from the inside. Some of them were burned; others were stabbed with a very sharp blade. None survive, except…. You. Did I get it right so far?"

I didn't answer, or even look up to meet the man's eye. I didn't want to. I thought that the case had been closed…. And now someone was trying to solve it again? No one knew how many people, trusted my innocence and tried to 'bring the real murderer to justice' as they say. But no one had accomplished that.

The man sighed, "No answer, eh? So let me continue. Since everyone just thought that you were a survivor and were only a child, they didn't make you a suspect. But then…. You admitted that you did it. You admitted that you're the one who killed them with your own hands….."

I'm really pissed right now. Who the hell did he think he is?! Saying all he wanted like he actually knew me or whatever actually happened there!!

Before I actually blew off and attacked that guy with all I got, the woman cut him off.

"Havoc, stop it. I think he has already heard enough." She said, placing her hand on in front of 'Havoc'.

The man called Havoc shrugged and let the woman talks.

She is now walking to my direction, making me step back until my back touch the door. Realizing that I didn't want her to get close to me, she stopped. At least the woman seemed to know her place.

"I'm Agent Brea. Aya Brea." She said pointing to herself and then looked at the man. "And that is Agent Havoc. Jake Havoc." The man nodded.

Seeing that I gave no reaction, this 'Aya' continued, "We're from MIST, it's an organization under the president supervision himself. You can say that it's a part of FBI."

FBI? Now, what did this kind of people want from me? Another testimony? Another experiment? Whatever it was I didn't think that it would be anything good.

I think I made a weird expression, because Agent Brea smiled.

"Judging from that kind of look you think that we're going to do something… awful, aren't you?"

Damn, this girl must be a psychic.

"Don't worry about something like that; we actually want to offer you…. Freedom." She said while putting both of her arms on her chest.

Offering freedom? It's not something new that someone actually said that. But…. I feel a little bit interested when this woman said so. Then again, they were FBI Agents so they were probably able to pull something like that…. Heh, I guessed I haven't lost all hope after experiencing all of that disappointment. What a joke.

I still didn't say anything or actually moved from 'my' spot. The man probably thought that I didn't actually listen to all of that talk and sighed again.

"Aya, why don't we end this? I don't think we need this…. Number 66 to help us. Look at him. He probably wouldn't able to stand up against…. 'Them' anyway."

The woman shook her head. "You know that we are undermanned because of the last incident. And you do know that we have our suspicion that this…." She looked at me. "Mr. Knight, might have…" she stopped realizing that the captain was still here.

Whoa, it must be something big that she didn't want anyone else to hear it. And Mister? Hate to hear that 'title' used on my name.

The man sighed. Dammit, how many times had he done that anyway?

"Good to hear that you agree." She said flatly and turned to face me again.

"Think about it, will you?" She sounded almost like…. she's pleading…..

The man turned to see the captain who already sat back on his chair with sweats all over his face. "That's all captain, thank you for your cooperation." He said with that kind of professional smile.

I moved from 'my' spot realizing that I was blocking the door. The woman smiled, I think she found it amusing that I actually moved.

"Good day, captain." Said the woman before walking to the door.

I didn't know why, but I grabbed her wrist before she touched the doorknob. In an instance, the man pulled off his gun and the captain, even though a little bit slower, pulled his too.

I mumbled something under my breath.

The woman raised her free hand and told her 'friends' to lower their gun.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

I grunted and repeated what I was trying to say, a little bit louder this time.

"Under what….. circumstances?"

The woman looked a little bit surprised to hear my voice for the first time. But it soon changed to a satisfied one.

"I can't tell you right now. But…" she stopped to think and then continued. "Tomorrow. I'll come again then to tell you the… circumstances."

I released my grab and moved back. Realizing that I was pretty close to her.

She smiled again, "Good day, Mr. Knight."


End file.
